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I thought it would be a nice change of things to do an interview with a fellow blogger! The author of Thoughtful Thoughts approached me with the idea, and I thought it would be a lot of fun. I used the pseudonym Molly, so the interview she did with a woman named Molly is IAND. I really enjoyed being interviewed and I hope you find it interesting!

I’m not sure if I’m asking for advice or what, but just I’m letting you know I admire what you’re doing, it takes a lot of guts. My brother was molested when he was younger, but he was living with my grandparents because my mom couldn’t handle him anymore. It was a retarded guy who lived in the nearby area, and more is being revealed as i get older. He’s all over the place emotionally and he decided drugs were the thing to help him, if not just get him through the day. There’s been a shift lately though, and he is clean and he feels better. He is seeing a psychiatrist to find some meds that can help him feel normal again. He’s been diagnosed with bipolar/borderline personality disorder, all sorts of other things. It makes sense, but he was just a boy trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and he tried every method available. He just tried negative ones, and they all lead him to one addiction or another. The only trouble he got in were cries for attention, like going to rehab, or getting some woman to pay a train ticket to Montreal, where she would wire him money, and he could party for a while. He got to Montreal and didn’t have a photo id, so he couldn’t get the money, and was stuck there without a dime. He was 16, but the adventures he’s been on, and the quest he’s been out for was to feel good. He just wanted to feel good, so i could never stay mad at him for long when he didn’t get along with us. He was violent when he was younger, he did live with us off and on, but it was too late, and the damage was done. I don’t think he ever felt accepted. I tried telling him, to do what he had to do, but I’m always here for him, and I always have been. He’s been there for me too. I hope this time around he sticks to his guns, and stays positive when things get tough. Life is harsh sometimes, but it doesn’t have to be bad, or stay that way. When i was a bit younger, maybe 5 years ago, I went for a mental evaluation, to see if there was anything wrong with me. Sure i smoke pot, and had dabbled with mushrooms and acid, but my plight was different. I knew there was something wrong, something holding me back, but i couldn’t put my finger on it. I told them about my brother, and that i thought it may have happened to my sister. I’m pretty sure it never happened to me, but what if it did? And, why them and not me? I mean, I feel emotionally messed up as well, but my luck has been great in comparison between my siblings, I’m the middle kid and sometimes the oldest, but emotionally, i was like everybody’s father, making sure they weren’t doing anything too stupid or hurting themselves or anyone else. I blame my mum for a lot of the shit now, how negligent she was, and a recovering alcoholic. Now I’m just starting to think she switched from alcohol to her meds. There’s a lot of stuff she did not prepare us for. I’m father myself, and had my family split up because I was so scared the same thing was going to happen. I shut down, and broke down trying to manage my depressed-prone wife, and my own shit. I couldn’t take it. We fought all the time, nothing violent, just yelling and emotional hurt, so i left until things calmed down. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but my wife decided to go back to her hometown with our daughter. I obliged, and let them go. I think I was not able to handle a family because i lacked any sort of emotional experience. I didn’t know how to deal with them properly, and my wife struggled to get better. She strangled me emotionally, and i broke down before I became violent. As soon as the urge to starting hitting something comes up in me, I run away. I’ve seen drunken abuse from my mum’s boyfriends and my brother; i didn’t need to be like that. I always think of my daughter, and she’s my reason to keep going. I want a better life for her, and i hope she’s a lucky one, like me, so that she can help others who need it. I think we all have certain traumas brought into our lives, but it’s how we deal with it that counts. It’s our actions and reactions, not losing control and knowing that life is good, things will turn out ok. Thank you for letting me know that you know it too, and that you’re doing what you can to help those who can’t talk about past traumas, thanks again, you’re doing great :)

-Confused

Dear Confused,

First I want to tell you that your brother is very lucky to have such and understanding, loving sibling. It is very hard to watch someone you love destroy their lives with addictions and emotional issues, and it is even harder to be there for them when they fall.

It sounds like you carried a lot of weight on your shoulders as a child. It can be very stressful always being the “parent” sibling. It takes a lot of effort to make sure that the people around you are taken care of, and I am sure you didn’t have as much time to worry about yourself. Acting as a caregiver can really force you to grow up, and see the world in a different light. Maybe you were robbed of your childhood because of this?

It also seems like you grew up in a world where things seemed fairly out of control, which might cause you to act more controlling in your adult life. It seems like you have a handle on your anger, in a sense that you know when you need to get away, but have you figured out why you are so angry? Maybe if you can get to the root of your anger, you will be able to get a better hold on it, and not always have to flee?

It sounds like getting help has done a lot for your brother, maybe you need someone to speak to, an impartial person who can just listen while you get it all out. Bringing things to light, and understanding them can do amazing things for the soul. Just because your brother and sister had different traumas then you, doesn’t make yours are less important. You still had to grow up under the same circumstances, with the same people.

Maybe your wife having issues was too hard on you, after growing up with your siblings, and always having to help them. Was it too much to have that in your marriage as well? If you’re not emotionally stable in your own mind, you will never be able to help someone else get or stay emotionally stable. Maybe you both need someone to talk to.

At the very least you seem able to clearly see where your upbringing was flawed, and now that you have a daughter of your own you can do you’re very best to make sure that she is brought up differently. Things may or may not get better with your wife, but you have to come to terms with yourself before the two of you will really be able to hash it out. It sounds like you have a very good head on your shoulders, and I think you can do really well and go far. Turn your experiences into something better, and grow from them. I really think you can figure this out, and feel better about yourself and your life. I’m sure times are hard, but they will get better!

Thanks to the amazing comments and feedback I’ve received about my posts, I have decided to create an Advice/Questions page. I don’t promise to have all the answers, but I will do my very best do give solid advice, and answer questions honestly. I’ve experienced so much in my life, and it would mean so much if I could help other people! I’ll take your questions about life and just about anything you have gone through, or are going through, thanks so much for taking the time to fill out the cool form I made :)

Please feel free to head that way and fill out the nifty little questionnaire I made! Then make sure to check back often for updates, or FOLLOW us! I can’t do this without your help and participation. I need you to help me get this started, without your stories, and questions I can’t get this off the ground!

Please give it a go and maybe you will be the first person I get to write to!

Elementary school was not very difficult for me. I got good grades, and I was in the schools gifted programs. I was pretty active in school activities and I had a few friends. I was by no means one of the popular girls, but I went to school in a small town with a lot of people I grew up with.

When I was in fourth grade, I didn’t like recess very much, so I would go visit old teachers. My favorite second grade teacher would let older students come in during their break, if they worked with the younger students. I really enjoyed helping, so I gathered a group of other students, and we spent our breaks helping the younger kids learn to read and spell. It was a lot of fun.

I became more of an outcast as I got older. Weird things were going on at my home, and most of the kids just weren’t dealing with the kind of issues I had already. Things like anger, death, and sex aren’t normal topics for the average elementary student. I found it very difficult to relate to the other kids, and I didn’t have much in common with other girls because I was such a tomboy.

Outside of school I had several friends. The street I grew up on was full of young families, so all the kids played together often. Afterschool the kids would get together and play street hockey, or hide and go-seek. We would go on adventures, ride bikes, and explore the area. I didn’t have friends over often, it just wasn’t my idea of fun, but I loved going to friends’ houses and seeing how their families interacted.

One of the families’ that lived on our street had an older mentally disabled son. He would sit out on the bricks in front of his house, and try to get the kids to come talk to him. He often convinced the girls on the street to come sit on his lap, and he liked to hug them. I won’t lie; I sat on his lap once to and just thought he was weird and overly friendly. I didn’t think much of it, but I knew I didn’t want to go near him anymore.

About a week later another girl on the street sat on his lap too. I guess he tried to kiss her, and her Dad saw her trying to get away from him, and the police were called. He was apparently a registered sex offender, and his parents were supposed to be supervising him. I am not sure what happened to him, but we never saw him outside again.

It was saddening to think that there were bad people everywhere, at home and on the street. Where was I safe? I didn’t have very much trust or faith in people after that. I felt like my parents couldn’t keep me safe. I felt like I had the world on my shoulders, and I had to take care of it on my own. I think it made me a very independent person early on. I never worked well in groups, I felt like the other kids would fail at their part, and it would all come down to me any way, why not just do it all myself? I made myself an outcast with this attitude, and I really started to dislike people in general.

I decided if the people who were supposed to keep me safe and take care of me were going to do a crappy job, then I would do it myself. This “do- it-yourself” attitude stuck with me. To this day, I still feel like I can do it better myself. It’s funny how the things you do to adapt as a child help shape who you are as an adult.

I once read that nearly 2/3’s of abused children later have drug problems. Is that why I went down that path?

As a child you are supposed to be able to trust the people around you, your family and the people who your parents believe safe enough to be a friend. When that trust is lost a whole new world is exposed. When I was about 7, I was approached by a member of my family. To put it simply, he asked if I wanted to hang out with him, the way he said he “hung out” with some of my friends. As a 7-year-old, I figured if my friends were doing these things, then they ok, after all, why would a family member do something bad?

I was very wrong, and this was the simple beginning to two years of molestation. For two whole years I snuck around my home with this member of my family, doing things that no child should even know about. Eventually I figured out that what was happening was not right. I told a friend at school that one of my other girlfriends was doing these things, and he told the principal. The principle believed I was saying bad things about another student, so instead of reaching out and trying to get to the root of the situation, I got in trouble. The principal called my parents who were very upset to hear that I was saying such things. I didn’t really understand the situation, and I thought I was in trouble for what I was saying, and did not elaborate on what was really going on.

Eventually things came to an end when this family member was kicked out of our home. I never told my parents what happened. When I was old enough to understand what had happened, I felt too ashamed. I thought “Why did I think this was ok?”, and how weak I was for doing this just because I thought other kids did it. I was also afraid of how my father would look at me, knowing this had happened right under his nose. I felt like I had brought shame to my family.

Eventually as a teenager I did share my experience with a good friend. I was shocked to hear her story, and horrified at how well it mirrored my own. I remember thinking “Oh god, this happens often?” Since then I have met several women with their own stories of abuse, and they are always heartbreaking. I remember how terrifying it was to think that I lived in a world where most of the women I knew had some horror story of past abuse.

This was the beginning of many of the problems I still have today. I think that it was very difficult for me to understand and come to terms with what happened. I sprouted multiple issues because of it, and it made me lose my trust in people.

I think that was when I figured out that the world was not always a good place. Bad things happen to all kinds of people, and life is never fair.

Note:

Molestation and rape are never ok. It is never your fault. Someone should never force themselves on another person, and nothing a person can do should ever be considered as “encouraging” rape. I don’t care if you are a kid, a drunk, or an idiot etc, no one deserves to have someone invade their personal space. I encourage anyone who has been raped or abused to tell someone. Tell a friend, a counselor, a family member, anyone. You shouldn’t have to go through that alone. I also encourage you go to the police. Do not let a rapist hold power over you.

I am 24 and I am a mom. Most people don’t see past their preconceived notions of a young mom, to see that I am so much more. I have made many mistakes in my life but the road that finally led me here was a bumpy but happy one. My 9 month old daughter truly is the light of my life, and I can only be thankful that I made it to this point. There were many times in my young adulthood that I did not expect to see the next day. I think I often believed that there was no way I would make it to my mid 20’s let alone through another week with myself. Growing up in my shoes had its difficulties, and I quickly grew to be my own worst enemy. For many years I dabbled in drugs and bad decisions. I neglected to care about myself and the people around me. For years I used whatever drugs I could get my hands on to numb my feelings and thoughts. I didn’t want to feel, or have to think, or handle reality.

I know there are millions of people out there who choose to use and abuse substances over living their lives, and for many years, I thought they had the right idea. I in no way condone drug use, I have been down that road and I can tell you endless stories about the stupidity and bad decisions involved in drug abuse. I have driven friends away, watched people die, and nearly killed myself in an endless quest for what? A better high? I hope for a chance to share some of my stories and memories in a format easily accessible to other people with a past.

I strongly encourage any readers to share their own stories. If you felt you could relate to something I have said, please feel free to share. I hope for this to be a place for free flow of thought without judgment. I know that so many people out there have a colored history, but I also know that we are the people we are meant to be because of the experiences, and lessons we live through. I personally believe that we go through all the things that we do, so we can be better equipped to handle situations later on. An easy example of a life lesson? Put your hand on a hot stove, after you burn it the first time I doubt that you will put your hand back, or any other body part for that matter. Life is just a series of lessons accumulating and turning you into the person you are. I plan on laying out several of my own personal life lessons, with hope that someone out there can relate, learn, or enjoy my personal stories.

I am not defined by the person people see when they look at me. I am defined by the way I have lived my life, the decisions and mistakes I’ve made, the consequences I have lived through and the way I have handled the hurdles life has thrown my way.